Something To Believe In
by Jenmay
Summary: A fic that tries to explain why Dee turned out the way she did. There will be spoilers for Mini through Season 3.
1. Chapter 1

Something to Believe In, Pt 1

When Anastasia Dualla was ten years old, she found her destiny. Not many little girls could say that, but it was true.

It was a cool spring afternoon, the sky finally clear of the seasonal rains that had dragged on for slightly longer than usual that year. Upon looking out their bedroom window that Saturday, her mother had decided to take her for a walk down to the Marketplace to pick up ingredients for that night's supper–beef stew with potatoes and carrots. After practically being shut indoors for the past four months, Ana welcomed the escape from their dingy and oppressively small one-bedroom apartment, skipping almost the entire way, holding her mother's hand.

Apparently, half the city had the same idea, too. The Equinox Marketplace was bustling with activity, packed to the gills with people haggling over spices and other wares, trading gossip, and debating politics at one of many cafes at almost every corner.

While her mother was buying the potatoes and carrots for the stew, she picked out the scent of roses from the nearby flower stand. She loved red roses, so delicate...so pretty. There was nothing pretty about where she lived–it was dark, drab, and smelled like pee. She wanted that rose, badly. She almost asked her mother for a credit to buy one, but Sally Dualla was in the middle of heated bargaining, so she instead reached into her pocket for her leftover allowance. Five cents...twenty...thirty...sixty, eighty...one credit fifty! That was probably enough to get her rose.

She was about to walk over to the stand, when suddenly, the rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire rang though the air, followed by the screams of people fleeing around them. Her mother threw herself down, covering her daughter's thin body with her own. Ana couldn't see anything. She could only hear the sounds of things shattering, of people moaning in pain. She felt herself suffocating under the weight of her own protection.

"Ana, sweetie", whispered her mother, " When he turns his back, we're going to run behind that potato cart over there, okay?"

"Okay, mommy."

"Be brave for me. On the count of three. One...two...three!" Sally leapt to her feet, dragging Ana at full speed to safety. More bullets rang out, this time in their direction. Just before rounding behind the cart, her mother fell forward, a red stain blossoming on her right shoulder.

"Mommy!" Ana screamed.

Her mother, got up as best she could. "Stay right there!" She was barely able to drag herself behind the heavy cart before another spray of fire came their way.

Without even thinking, Ana tore off her thin overshirt and began ripping it to pieces, surprised at her own strength at that moment. Trying to remember the what she learned in first aid class, she bandaged her mother's shoulder as best she could, holding back her tears as she saw her mother coffee-colored features slowly turn ashen. "Hold still, Mommy. I'm going to put pressure on your shoulder to stop the bleeding." But her mother couldn't stop writhing in agony, wouldn't stay still. She didn't know what to do.

They were stuck there for what seemed like an eternity, the echoes of bullets and panic ringing around them. She tried to sneak a look at the madman, but her mother–in as much pain as she was--threatened to beat her within an inch of her life if she got killed. She would have thought it was funny, except that it was her mother dying, not her.

Suddenly, more gunfire erupted right next to them. She thought that it was the gunman coming to finish them off. She covered her mother just as she had her earlier, and shut her eyes tight. But instead of gunshots riddling them, she felt someone shaking her arm. She opened her eyes.

A Colonial Marine looked down at her. "Are you okay, little girl?"

She wanted to cry with relief. "My Mommy's been shot!"

"What's your name?"

"Ana."

"Okay, Ana, we're going to get you both out of here." He spoke into the com at his shoulder. "Slingshot! I've got two civilians, one wounded! Give me some cover fire!" He turned back to Ana. "We're going to move real quick, Ana, so stay right next to me, okay."

"Okay."

The soldier slung Sally's good arm around his shoulder, placing Ana by his left side, away from potential gunfire. "Get ready." His comrade began to return fire. "Go!" They sped as fast as they could, turning the corner to the main thoroughfare, where a team of medics were waiting.

"These people are here to take care of you and your mama, Ana. Be a good girl." He turned away and headed back towards the gunfire, the medics whisking them away before she could even thank him.

She never knew the man's name or rank. She couldn't even remember his face clearly. She only knew that he'd saved their lives at the risk of his own, and that he'd been extremely brave. As her mother was being attended to, she looked around at the other soldiers, who seemed to conduct themselves with dignity and pride. It was more than gratitude she felt at that moment. Dignity and pride were things alien to her world, but she coveted them, even more than she did that rose. As young as she was, she realized that those qualities couldn't be bought and sold like flowers...She knew what she wanted to do with her life.

She wanted to be like them.


	2. Chapter 2

Something to Believe In, Pt 2

Eight years later...

"Heeeeyah!"

With a loud thud, Ana landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She laid there on the mat, dazed for a second, feeling yet another bruise forming on her butt. She probably had more elsewhere, but at that point, she couldn't tell–she was a mass of bruises now.

"Okay, nuggets!" her self-defense instructor barked, pulling her on to her feet. "Remember, when facing an opponent larger than you, use their size to your advantage. Like the old saying goes, the bigger they come, the harder they fall."

"Yeah, unless they squash you like a bug first", quipped one of the other cadets.

"Callisto!"

"Uh, yes, sir!"

"Get over here!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Now, Callisto...you are going to advance on Dualla, and she will attempt to throw you."

"Aw, come on, Sir, she's just a little girl. I'll–"

"Now, Callisto!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Armand Callisto was a good head taller than her, and–while not beefy–had greater muscle mass. _You can do this, Ana! You can show this cocky son-of-a-bitch what you're made of!_ _Remember who you are! Remember why you're here! _

_22222_

When Ana was seventeen, she made up her mind to join the Colonial Fleet after graduation–a no-brainer, really. While most of her childhood friends were in jail or getting knocked up, she was trying to focus all her energies on a future far away from Naxos. She wasn't the top student of her class by far, but she maintained good grades, kept her nose clean.

She had even found her calling. In her third year, her school sent out a written announcement about the signing up for one of the required "Real Life Skills" courses. She looked down the short list of options, disappointed that her Junior Fleet Reserve classes didn't count for squat. She had her choice from among the following: Home Economy, Vehicle Repair, Basic Electronics, Office Skills, and Animal Care. Her mother had tried early on to instill in her daughter the fine art of cooking and cleaning, with no success, so she mentally crossed Home Econ off her list. She wasn't crazy about the idea of being coated with engine grease every morning and being ogled by a bunch of boneheads, so, no Vehicle Repair. She definitely knew that she didn't want to end up in a dead-end office job like her mother, wasting her life away as an overworked, underpaid secretary–forget Office Skills. As for cleaning cat cages and shoveling dog poo–ew! That only left Electronics. She had no expectations when she walked into Mr. Solustus' course, finding herself one of only two girls among a bunch of nerdy boys (double 'ew!'). However, after a couple of weeks, that fact that she was sandwiched between cross-eyed Lyndon Crassus and Charlie "The Smell" Vell in class didn't matter, she was hooked. She somehow was able to grasp the fundamentals of building simple circuits and repairing electronic equipment, and, by the end of the semester, had built a transistor radio out of a pile of scrap as a final project (which earned her the "eternal adoration" of Lyndon (EW, EW, EW!). Soon, she was even confident enough to repair the tv and the digital music player at home.

She walked into the local Colonial Fleet recruiting office, where she checked out her options. The recruiter, a man only a few years older than herself, said, "From what you're telling me, your grades may not qualify you for our Electronic Engineering program. Perhaps, with your skills, you'd might be interested in, let's say, Communications?"

That was fine by her.

The next step was to tell her parents.

When Ana informed her mother the next day of her intentions, Sally, with the Sagittarian mistrust of the military, was a little hesitant, but realized that the Fleet would give her daughter the opportunities that she couldn't give her. Gently holding her daughter's cheek in her hand, she looked into her eyes. "Ana, honey, I know you're a smart girl, and I believe that you know what you're doing, so don't take this the wrong way."

"What's that, Momma?"

"I gotta ask you, why are you doing this?"

She could have given the speech that the recruiter gave her–a chance to build her skills, to travel to exotic new places, to build self-respect...But she told her the truth instead. "Momma, I got to get away."

Sally simply nodded her head, the tears starting to flow down her cheeks as she held Ana tight in her arms. "I won't tell your father yet, until you're ready."

Good thing, too, because it took her another two months to get the nerve to face him.

"The Colonial Fleet is for emotional cripples and patriotic fools, Annie! When are you going to get that into your head!"

_Look who's talking, _she thought. She kept those words in her head, not because she respected her father–she didn't-- but because it was better to let him run out of steam than it was to argue him.

"After all I've told you! After all you've learned! After all that's happened–the Archeron Riots, martial law in Sixtus Town, the indiscriminate, vicious arrests of law-abiding citizens...You've joined the enemy!"

Her father hadn't always been this way. Her mother had told her the story of Frank Dualla–a sensitive, intelligent twenty-two year-old man from Naxos, had gone to the University of Saggitaron's Archeron campus to study law, like his father before him. However, at that time, the University was filled with young people, like himself, who wanted to change the rules, make things better for everyone. They took over the Admin Building and held a hunger-strike, rioted over the closing of a Colonial-funded clinic for the disadvantaged...things like that. He had laid down in front of the marines, organized free-soup kitchens, and had even wrote a speech that Tom Zarek (her father's eyes became misty at the sound of his name) had used in a press conference. But, all that had changed when things got out of hand, and five Colonial Marines were killed when they tried to stop the masses from entering the Archer Hotel, where the President of the Colonies was having a meeting. That's when the crackdowns began. Zarek was arrested for acts of terrorism ("It's a Gods damn conspiracy!"), the soup kitchens were closed, the students went back to just being students, things went back to "normal"...but nothing was the same for Frank. Several of his friends were either arrested or trying to distance themselves from the movement as much as they could. He himself was almost taken in for questioning, but was let go because his father was the friend of the local Chief of Police, on the condition he return to Naxos. He did–he got his teaching credential at the local college, married his high school sweetheart, became a father a few years later. On the outside, everything was okay, but inside, Frank became increasingly bitter, taking every opportunity to criticize, to fight every losing battle, to drag his family down with him. He'd gotten so difficult that he couldn't even hold a permanent job, so he was only a substitute teacher for the school system.

And here he was, trying to make her feel like the disgrace.

"GET OUT OF HERE! YOU'RE NO LONGER MY DAUGHTER! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

It should have been a relief, getting away from him, but, for some reason, it hurt all the same.

"You can stay with Auntie Nadine until you graduate", Sally said, folding the last shirt into the suitcase before closing it. "She's a little ditzy, my sister, but she'll take care of you. And honey, you'll always be mydaughter."

Aunt Nadine was nice. A little ditzy, like Momma said, but nice. She was the top cosmestics salesperson at the big fancy department store downtown, so she was well off. She even had a beautiful apartment in a nicer part of town she shared with a friend (who was doing a six-month stay at an ashram on Gemenon). Her new bedroom alone was bigger than her old kitchen, bedroom, and living room combined. She sank into the soft bed, crying into the rose-scented pillows. Nadine walked in.

"Aw, honey, don't worry, everything will be okay...I know things are hard now, but your Momma says you're really smart, and that you've got a plan, so don't worry it...Say, your poor eyes are all red. They're so pretty. Big and green, like my Momma's. I know! I got some new makeup that I was going to test out on myself. Why don't we try it out together? How about this...'Lilac Dawn'. That'll be darling on you. Make the green in your eyes come out...

22222

"I'm sorry I gotta do this to you, Dualla, but–Sarge's orders!" Callisto looked too cocky for his own good, sensing what he thought was an easy victory.

Someone among the other cadets shouted, "Come on Callisto, knock Purple Eyeshadow on her ass!"

Ana's mouth quirked slightly at hearing her unofficial callsign. She had made the mistake of wearing makeup on the first day of basic, and hadn't been able to shake the nickname ever since.

The instructor stood at attention. "Ready...Go!"

One second Callisto was lunging at Dualla, and the next he was on his back, stunned that a little thing had laid him low.

_Hah! Purple Eyeshadow kicked your ass! _


	3. Chapter 3

Something to Believe In, Pt 3

"What's your name, Specialist?"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"I said, what is your name?"

_Three weeks aboard Galactica, and still he doesn't know my name. _It was the third time that day that Colonel Tigh had asked her, and no wonder. She could smell the alcohol on his breath even from where she sat at the Comm.

"It's Dualla, Sir."

"Right. Send a message to the Styx..."

Lieutenant Gaeta, the Officer of the Watch, quirked a smile behind the Colonel's back, shaking his head. He'd been on Galactica only a few months longer than she, but was already very familiar with his habits. On her first day at the Comm, she'd been so nervous that made a mistake in directing a supply ship, and got an earful from Tigh. She had just barely managed to hold in her tears as she walked to the head, and bawled her eyes off in one of the stalls. When she came out, Gaeta was there. "Don't worry about the Colonel. He's like that when he's hung over. He won't remember a thing tomorrow."

"But he'll–"

"Like I said, he won't remember a thing."

And he didn't. He just asked her, yet again, what her name was.

Gaeta's patience and sense of humor were lifesavers those first weeks. He could be firm and take charge, but still make her laugh with a side glance. She'd briefly flirted with the idea of finding out if he was single, but thought better of it–getting involved with a superior officer would definitely sidetrack the career she'd worked so hard for. Besides, she had the feeling he was gay (though she'd never ask). In any case, he was fast becoming a good friend.

"Damn! What's your name again?" the Colonel shouted in frustration.

"It's–"

"I know it begins with a 'D'...Damien...Durst...Dwayne...Frak it! 'D', patch me to the Atlantia!"

After the Colonel stalked out of C.I.C., Lt. Gaeta leaned over the Comm, and whispered, "At least he knows the first letter now. He didn't even get that before. So, now he'll be calling you 'D' all the time."

"I've been called worse."

"Like what?"

"In basic, they called me Purple Eyeshadow."

Gaeta snickered for a second. "Okay 'D', check the status of the EVA teams. Shield testing's in one hour."

"Yes, Sir." _Dee...I like that. It's a good name. Easier to remember than Dualla._

33333

Her life aboard the Battlestar Galactica had a simple rhythm.

At 0500, she woke up, dragged herself out of her bunk, showered, and made her way to the mess for a cup of coffee and muffin. After getting her caffeine fix, she made her way to C.I.C. for her 0600 shift. On the way, she waved 'hi' to some of the acquaintances she'd met on her first orientation, picked up some engine reports to take to C.I.C., stepped aside to avoid a group of pilots jogging down the corridor.

"Make a hole!" shouted one of them, a blonde woman named..._Thrace, wasn't it?. Kara Thrace. _She usually knew her by her callsign–

"Starbuck!" came a rumbling voice behind Dee. "What do you hear?"

"Nothing but the rain!" A big smile lit up Starbuck's face.

"Then grab your gun and bring in the cat."

"Boom, boom, boom."

As Starbuck ran past her, she wondered how they came up with that routine...it seemed so silly, yet so personal...Gaeta would probably know. And speaking of Commander Adama...

"Good morning, Dualla", he said, "How are you this morning?"

As he began walking with her, she fell into his pace. "Fine, Sir. And you?"

"Okay, thank you."

"I've got the latest engineering reports. Chief Specialist Sokoff says that the FTL engines are all right, but the starboard impulse engine needs to be replaced."

"Looks like we came into dock just in time. She's a sturdy old girl, but she's seen her share of years."

_Tell me about it. _When repairing the Comm a week ago, she and another specialist had to make a couple of circuits from scratch because they didn't make those parts anymore. "Yes, Sir."

When they walked into C.I.C., Lt. Gaeta was waiting, and began briefing the Commander, while she took her seat at the Comm. There she stayed for about four hours, directing ship traffic, relaying messages, sending out status reports to the Picon Orbital Station. She took her break, grabbing a half-sandwich (she was always a light eater), glancing over some reports, fending off advances from a nugget Viper pilot, before making her way back to work. After another four hours or so, she went back to her rack to relax, did situps in the gym, or simply wandered the corridors trying to make sense of her new home before falling asleep.

33333

She and Lt. Gaeta pulled R&R passes for the same two days, so they decided to spend at least one of them in Picon City. They'd both had been through basic training on Picon, but never had the time to actually go out sightseeing, so they, and a couple of other crew members made it a day of renting paddleboats to putter around in–with hilarious results. After drying off, they hit one of the casinos to people-watch at the bar.

While their companions were buying another round of drinks, Dee leaned over to Gaeta. "What do you know about Starbuck?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, whenever I see her and the Commander together, they go through this whole ritual–"

"What do you hear?" Gaeta's imitation of the Commander was flawless.

"Yeah, that."

"Well", he stirred his Caprican Sunrise thoughtfully, "From what I've been able to gather, she was once engaged to his son."

"How long ago."

"About a few months before I came aboard Galactica."

"So why didn't she marry him?"

"He died."

"Oh."

"She's kind of like a daughter to him ever since, so he pulled strings to get her on his ship."

"That kind of explains things. I've only been on board for a month, and she's already been in the brig four or five times. Yet I haven't had to transmit any formal grievences to Picon Command."

"Yeah, a father's indulgence, I guess." He looked at her for a moment. "You don't like her, do you?"

Dee sipped her drink before answering. Gaeta was a friend, but he was also her boss. "I don't like that she's able to bend the rules so much." _She's a spoiled brat, that's what she is._

"I've got news for you. She may not be his blood, but Children of Officers of the Fleet get away with murder all the time. I could tell you a story or two–"

At that moment, their companions returned with their drinks, and Gaeta moved onto another subject.

From the lowliest janitor to the Old Man himself, everybody traded rumors–it was the currency of the realm aboard a battlestar. It was also a way to learn how to avoid any potential minefields in the future. _I gotta get the rest later...maybe after he's had a couple more Caprican Sunrises._

33333

About two weeks later, the overhaul of Galactica was complete, and the old girl was ready to be launched back into the depths of space.

Butterflies ran amok in Dee's stomach. She had six weeks to integrate herself into the crew, now the real work began. "Sir, Picon Orbital has given us the go."

The Commander nodded. "Mr. Gaeta, initiate the impulse thrusters. Steady as she goes..."

As the Galactica glided out of its berth, Dee could feel the subtle motion of the ship, the hum of activity all around her. She felt excitement. This was her first tour of duty–the first real day of her life.


	4. Chapter 4

Something to Believe In, Pt 4

About two years later...

Dee entered the head , seeing her friend Specialist Nomi Kimball washing her hands. "Hey."

"Hey there, Dee. What gives?"

"These civvies roaming around all over the place." Dee unzipped her jumpsuit, pulling off the top part. "Colonel Tigh chased a couple of reporters out of C.I.C., so they started griping to the Commander about not being given full access, so they're being allowed in groups."

Kimball snorted. "Yeah, it's bad enough that this boat's being retired... Specialist Mykonos in Engineering already caught a couple visitors wandering around there. I mean, come on! We're not a museum, yet. Buy a ticket tomorrow!"

As she tied the arms of her suit to her waist and began rinsing off the light sweat around her face and neck, Dee thought about her two years aboard Galactica. When she first arrived, she had been mildly appalled at how antiquated she was, how everything wasn't networked together, how the hatches kept getting stuck (she had missed a shift one time because she'd been trapped in her bunkroom). The only reasons why she didn't request a transfer were her sense of duty, and the fact that she was serving under the legendary Commander William Adama. Over time, though, she had grown used to her–Galactica became home. Which was why this invasion was pissing her off even more than she expected.

"So, Kimball, where are you going?"

"I requested a transfer to Picon Command. Desk job."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. My Mom's health is not so great, so I figured that I'll at least be close to her in case something happens."

Dee thought briefly of her own mother. About six month ago, Sally had sent a message, saying that she had finally divorced her father, and was now living with Aunt Nadine. "I'm going to Virgon. They're building a new battlestar over there called the Argonaut, so I'm going to have my hands full, learning everything all over again."

"It's always a process, getting used to a new ship and a new crew. I have to admit though, I've been on three other battlestars, but nothing hold a candle to this one."

"I know what you mean."

A mechanic from the Hanger Bay stomped into the head, slamming the hatch behind him. "Motherfrakking tourists!"

Kimball snorted. "What did they do now, Prosna?"

"One motherfrakking idiot almost walked off with our tools! He wanted a souvenier–idiot! He should have broken into the gift shop, gotten a motherfrakking t-shirt or something." He continued mumbling his rant as he went into one of the stalls.

As Dee scrubbed behind her neck, the hatch opened again, but didn't close it. At the corner of her eye, she saw a tall person, just standing there, gawking. _Frak! Another tourist! _She felt her ire rise again. _I've had it! _The Commander had warned them to be as courteous as possible, but all she wanted to do was scream for him to get the frak out. She settled for the middle ground.

"In, or out?" she barked sharply.

The figure startled, "Excuse me?"

"Get in, or get out. Shut the hatch!"

"Oh, sorry." The man fumbled with the hatch, pulling it closed behind him.

Dee looked up, glaring at the newcomer. Tall, gawky, wearing a blazer and tie that his mother probably picked out for him. He seemed to be about her age–early twenties–but looked only twelve years old with his clueless expression. He was staring at her, or rather her chest. _Not used to seeing a woman in her sports bra are you?...Probably not used to looking at women, period. _Ordinarily, having somebody staring at her like that would have been an invitation to bite their head off. But, he was a civvy who didn't know any better. _Better get him out of here before Prosna gives him a black eye. _"Where are you trying to be?"

"Uh–" his voice sputtered. "Visitors' quarters." He dodged a couple of crewmembers coming in. "I'm a visitor", he added quickly.

She started to giggle, trading amused looks with Kimball, watching the man/boy blush. "Huh! Never would have guessed." He was still staring at her. "Never been in a unisex head before?"

"Uh–no, not really."

"Well, there's not much privacy on a warship. So the first rule is, DON'T STARE."He gave a little jump, pulling his gaze to the floor. "Um, sorry."

She sighed, zipping up her jumpsuit. "C'mon. Let's get you home."

As she pulled him through the hatch, she saw Kimball shaking her head, stifling a laugh.

44444

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For staring." Dee and Billy Keikeya were walking side by side, almost leisurely. He seemed torn between the urge to ogle her and the need to keep his eyes on the ground. It was kind of cute, in a middle-school sort of way. "I mean, I've never been on a battlestar before. It's...uh...cool."

"So, Mr. Keikeya, what brings you aboard Galactica?"

"Please, call me Billy. I'm the Aide to the Secretary of Education."

She then remembered, she'd spotted him in the corridor earlier, with the P.R. guy in the tacky suit, and an older woman with auburn hair. "How long have you been her aide, Billy?"

"Today's my first day, actually, so things have been hectic, trying to learn everything on the go."

"I can relate to that. What's she like?"

"Secretary Roslin? She seems...nice. Kind of reminds me of my mom."

"Really."

"But, I'm just getting to know her. We haven't really sat down and talked yet. She's been a little distracted...but I'm sure we'll hit it off."

"How did you become Aide to the Secretary of Education?"

"Well, I won a Siltzer Prize, and somebody from the Office of the President must have been impressed, I guess. I got a letter about a month later encouraging me to apply."

"Must have been exciting. What was your paper on?"

"Oh, Diplomacy and Leadership Models."

"What about them?"

For the next couple of minutes, Billy went into the intricacies of his thesis, most of which went over her head. But, as he rattled on, she noticed a change in him. Gone was the shy twelve-year old, and in his place was somebody who was dwelling in his element. His posture was straighter, his gestures were more fluid. He actually looked directly into her eye without blushing. From what she could grasp, he seemed to be a man of decisive, strong opinions, with firm ideas about how things should be run...not pie-in-the-sky theories either, like her father (_Why am I thinking of him now?). _She had to admit, she was a little impressed. _He needs to grow up, though._

"I'm sorry, I'm boring you." The awkward man/boy had returned.

"No, not at all. I was just noticing how passionate you were about your ideas."

"Well, yeah, I've got my ideas. I want to be able to express them, to influence change for the better. But right now... half the time I feel like a dork."

"Look, when I came aboard Galactica two years ago, I made lots of mistakes, felt like a dork half the time, but after a while I got to settle in, find my place. This is only your first day, Billy. Go easy on yourself. You'll find your place soon enough."

As they rounded a corner, they heard voices raised in heated debate.

"A computer network would simply make it faster and easier for teachers to be able to teach–"

The Commander cut off Secretary Laura Roslin impatiently. "Let me explain something to you. Many good men and women lost their lives aboard this ship during the Cylon war, because somebody wanted a faster computer to make their lives easier–".

Billy leaned over to Dee, "What's that about?"

"In the first Cylon war, the Toasters were able to kick our asses at first because they were able to hack into networked computers and turn our own ships and weapons against us. The lack of a network between systems makes hacking a lot harder–doable, but harder."

The Commander suddenly excused himself, leaving Billy's boss looking bemused.

"Uh, Dee, I'd better..."

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you."

"Bye!" As she made her way back to C.I.C., he waved at her down the corridor, trying to catch a glance of her for as long as he could before Roslin tugged on his sleeve.

44444

It had been a long day. The decommissioning ceremony had gone without a hitch (except for the Commander's unexpectedly emotional speech about the Cylon War, and how the human race couldn't just blow off what they created), most of the tourists were gone, and all was quiet. _Thank the Gods. _She'd taken up this last extra shift, knowing this would be the last time she would be operating this Comm system. In about two hours, she would hit her bunk, get some 'z's, pack up her belongings and hop the Raptor transport to Picon Command. After a couple of weeks of specialized training and a little R & R, she would catch a transport to Virgon and the Argonaut. Although she was sad to leave her friends and co-workers, she was eager for a new challenge...

Suddenly, the Comm came alive again. She looked down into the screen and saw the words "PRIORITY ONE". _Must be a prank, _she thought...She read the entire message..._This is definitely a prank...this is a really frakked up prank..._She read the message again, and again, and again. _This is some practical joke on the Commander, it has to be..._

"What's up, Dee?" Gaeta's tired face smiled at her over the Comm.

"I...I don't know what to make of this."

Gaeta noticed that Dee's coffee-colored skin was turning pale. "Make of what?"

"Read this. I don't know for sure, but I don't think this is a joke."

He read the message. Unable to speak at first, he almost whispered, "Gods. Oh, Gods! If this is real–" His quickly overcame his shock and quickly made his way to the phone and pressed a button. "C.I.C. to commanding officer..."

It was so unreal...All she could do was stare at the screen...

ATTENTION ALL COLONIAL UNITS. CYLON ATTACK UNDER WAY. THIS IS NO DRILL.


	5. Chapter 5

Something to Believe In, Pt 5

_I'll never sleep again_.

It wasn't just the stims still coursing through her veins. It was everything...

The initial adrenaline shock of the Cylons making a reappearance after so long...

Listening to the cries and pleas of the crewmembers trying to escape the fires in the Port Flight Pod...

Trying to comfort a disconsolate Kimball, whose partner had been sucked out into space...

The constant running and jumping every 33 minutes...

All those pictures of missing loved ones in the corridor...

The fact that nothing would ever be the same again.

She laid there in her bunk, after almost five days of sitting at the Comm, unable to sleep, dreading the images that would appear even after she closed her eyes. All she could do was open and close her pocket knife...her Dad's pocketknife. The one that she had taken away from him when she was fifteen. He had been in a rare state of intoxication after the death of one of his former comrades in jail, and had threatened to kill himself by slitting his wrist. He hadn't meant it, or else she wouldn't have been able to grab it from him so easily. When he had fallen unconscious on the couch, she'd hidden it, told him later on that he must have lost it on the way home from the bar, and promptly forgot about it, until she got into her Electronics class. It definitely came in handy after that, and was her constant companion from then on.

Click. Snick. Click. Snick. Click. Snick.

The sound of her knife opening and closing her pocketknife was soothing in its own way.

An alien thought crept in. _Maybe Dad had the right idea..._

She immediately sat up and closed her knife. _Please, you're not that weak._ If it was her time to go, she thought, she wouldn't take a coward's way out.

She heard the hatch open and looked up. Gaeta wearily stepped through and made his way to her. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

"Move over."

Normally, this would have thrown her for a loop, but she was too tired to debate anything now.

As she scooted over, she glanced at his appearance. Instead of his crisp blues, he was only attired in his double tanks and a pair of sweats. His eyes were bloodshot, face with a few days of stubble, and a couple of shaving cuts to boot.

"Gaeta–"

"Please, call me Felix. I think we're allowed a little informality, under the circumstances."

"In that case, call me Ana."

They laid next to each other chastely for a few minutes, just looking up at the bunk ceiling. Felix was the first to speak. "You know, I've been training for this for years...for the Cylons to show up again. They gave us simulations, tactics, training exercises...but it didn't prepare me. Nothing prepared me for this."

"I don't anything could have. Even my instructors in Specialist Training didn't think that they would come back at all... I just sat there at the Comm, receiving the reports of systemwide failures from all over the fleet. I knew what was happening, but I couldn't..."

"Wrap your brain around it?"

"Yeah."

"Ana."

"Yes?"

"Do you have family?"

Ana thought of her mother and Aunt Nadine. "I don't know if they're still alive."

"My Mom and Dad are on Canceron. They live in Venisea, this little suburb just outside of Cancera. They moved there after they retired from teaching. Then there's my older sister, Hestia, and my younger brother Tristan..." He recalled his childhood, sibling rivalries, school pranks, summer holidays at his cousins' lakeside house, everything he could remember. Ana listened, enraptured by the tales of his almost ideal family life. After a while, he turned his head to her. "I'm rambling..."

"No, it's great. It beats thinking about the last few days."

He rolled onto his side, looking into her eyes. "I know you told me you've got a mother on Sagittaron."

She nodded. "She lives in Naxos with my Aunt Nadine."

"Is your father still alive?"

It took her a few seconds to answer. "He's dead to me."

"Why?"

"He just is."

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business. It's just that you never mentioned him to me. I just assumed that he died a while ago."

Ana sighed. "Remember I took a few weeks off for a family emergency? My Dad had a heart attack, and I thought that, if he died without me saying goodbye to him, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. So, I went..." A flush of bitterness at the memory. "We've never gotten along. I should known better."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

He laid back again. "Gods! I wish I had a cigarette!"

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't."

"Oh."

"Just when things get stressful."

"You learn something new every day."

"It's funny. I've lived with all of you for two years. Breathed the same air, laughed at the same jokes, ate in the same mess, and still I barely know anybody very well." He noticed her eyes starting to close. "Getting tired?"

"Yeah."

"Lay back here." He gently pulled her head onto his shoulder, placing his chin on top of her head. Automatically, her arm slipped onto his chest, feeling the warmth from his body soothing her. She felt his breath slowing down as it lulled her to sleep.

She didn't dream of anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Something to Believe In, Pt 6

_As the mild sunshine warmed her face, Ana closed her eyes, breathing in the cold, clean air. It felt good in her lungs, so refreshing. She loved the smell of the earth after the rain._

"_Hey." She opened her eyes, seeing Billy looking down at her, smiling. "Whatcha thinking?"_

"_Oh, it's been so long since I've breathed in anything but recycled air." She was walking with him, hand in hand. He looked a little out of place in his ill-fitting suit among the other shoppers. Still, he looked happy, just being there with her, strolling between the fruit and vegetable stands, nodding a shy greeting to passers by. _

_As they got near the main square, a seductive scent caught her attention. _

"_Billy, roses!" The flower stall was filled with them, of all sizes and colors, all of them so beautiful, so perfect, she almost couldn't decide. _

"_Which ones do you want?"_

"_The red ones! Please!" She wanted them so badly._

"_Anything for my lady", he said suavely, pulling her hand to his mouth for a gentle kiss. It sounded a little funny, coming from him, but it was sweet, and she was finally getting her flowers. He began to dig into his pockets for change._

_Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupted, she turned...a tall, thin, blond woman in a brown suit was firing a machine gun into the crowd, mowing down everybody she saw. Ana was frozen in place for a moment...she'd seen her before, somewhere--_

_Billy tackled her to the ground, covering her with his body. "Ana, when she stops firing, we're gonna run behind that potato cart, okay? One, two...three!" They scrambled away, hearing the pings of masonry shattering around them_. _They'd almost made it, until they rounded the cart, when Billy fell violently forward. He tried to crawl near her... he opened his mouth to say something, but the pain seemed to render him mute. Using what strength she had, she dragged him the final two yards to safety. She tore off her light cotton jacket, trying to tear it into strips...tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, but he was fading fast, the light dying in his eyes._

_Suddenly, she could hear a machine gun firing off almost next to her. Maybe Shelly Godfrey (that's her name!) was coming to finish the job--_

_A Colonial Marine was suddenly at her side. "Are you okay?"_

"_My boyfriend's been shot!"_

_She looked into the marine's eyes–the bluest blue she'd ever seen in her life--blazing into hers with an intensity that she felt from her head to her toes.. For a moment, she'd completely forgot the dying man in her arms...he practically faded out of existence, as if he hadn't been there at all..._

"_I'll get you out of here." He leaned in to take her in his arms..._

66666

"ACTION STATIONS! ACTION STATIONS!"

Dee suddenly sat up, mentally giving the cobwebs in her mind a quick shake. _Where am I? What am I doing in my bunk? _She looked at her watch. 0236. _Frakking Cylons. _

Sati was on graveyard duty, so they didn't need her. Still, she knew that she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, knowing that the Toasters were pounding at their doorstep yet again. She swung her legs off the bunk and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her face. _Damn, that was a weird dream_. It had been the Solstice Marketplace all over again, but this time with Billy, the blonde Cylon, and...

_Enough of that, _she though, as she quickly pulled on her sweats.

66666

Minutes later, she was trotting towards the mess, where the rest of the "extraneous crew" were seated on benches with steaming mugs of coffee, listening to the Comm chatter. These were the crewmembers who, like her, weren't immediately needed, and were often told to go back to their bunks for the duration of the Cylon raid. That wasn't strictly enforced, so they kept out of the way by gathering in the mess, where the coffee urns were filled 24/7. These janitors, plumbing techs, injured pilots, mess staff, all of them were, like her, unwilling to wait out the storm alone.

"Hotdog, you've got two on your tail!"

"I'm on it, Apollo!" responded Starbuck.

Hot Dog's panicked voice cracked, "What the frak are you–"

A few seconds of silence. Then..."Woohoo! Am I good or what?"

"Yeah!" burst out Whirly, a Raptor pilot that had broken his arm three weeks ago.

"Jammer owes me two girly mags", declared Swoop, another pilot who was sitting out a mild concussion. "One more Starbuck kill, and I get a fifth of agavia from Hammerhead!"

A chorus of "shush" and "shut the frak up" put a stop to their banter.

Hot Dog's sigh of relief broke in over the Comm. "Remind me to kiss you later, Sir."

"Remind me to break your jaw, Hot Dog."

The nugget broke out into a chuckle. "Yes, sir!"

Apollo broke the banter, "Okay, people concentrate! We've got three more ships trying to make the jump. Hotdog, Kat, Greenback, cover the Hermes..."

As she listened to the C.A.G.'s voice, her mind drifted off a little. Why was he the marine? She'd had a little basic psychology as part of her training, so she shouldn't have been too surprised at his sudden appearance in her dreams. _I'm only human. _In fact, he'd been on her mind a lot since the riots on the Astral Queen, even when she was awake.

Sati's voice interrupted her train of thought. "C.I.C. to Apollo, the last ship has made the jump, come on home!"

"Hey, Apollo! Last one in's a rotten egg!"

"You wish, Starbuck! Everybody, get back inside!"

The atmosphere in the room suddenly relaxed. Nobody had gotten killed–today. The sudden disorientation of the hyper jump made Dee's stomach lurch.

66666

Later on in her bunk, she tried to get some sleep. Her body was tired, but her mind was too keyed up on the raid, and Lee Adama.

_Think about something else. Think about Billy. Yeah, you know, your boyfriend. _

Billy was nice. Billy was sweet. Billy was intelligent and trustworthy.

But Billy was like a kid...a puppy dog that followed her around. He was naive,

Lee Adama was a man.

_Frak! He's your superior officer! He's off limits, so get a grip! You've never let your hormones get in the way before. _

_Maybe that's the problem_, she thought. Ever since that day at the Solstice Marketplace, she had sworn to remain focused and resolute, to let nothing stand in the way of her attaining her goals–to get off Sagittaron, join the Fleet, to learn all she could so that she could be assigned on a battlestar, to–eventually–rise the ranks and become an officer. Oh, she had friends, briefly had a boyfriend just after Basic (to whom she lost her virginity to–which, sadly enough, was nothing to write home about), even dated on occasion (Gaeta didn't count), but she had put those aside one too many times because she wanted to climb up the next rung on the ladder. She was lonely. So, she became the girlfriend of Billy Keikeya, Assistant to the President of the Colonies.

It was nice. He was usually busy helping President Roslin run the Colonial government, and she was often tied up with running the Comm and repairing damaged equipment. But on the occasions they did get together, they did simple, enjoyable things, like cuddling on the Observation Deck while watching the Vipers pass by, or having him teach her to how to play chess. He would tell her about the behind-the-scenes aboard Colonial One, and she'd relate the latest gossip from Galactica. And they would kiss. He was a surprisingly good kisser, with soft, gentle lips, and none of the awkward tongue-wrestling that she would have expected of him (He had been good enough to tease some information about the Old Man out of her for Roslin). It had been good enough. Until the Astral Queen.

A few weeks ago, Billy had pulled strings to get her on the detail aboard the prison ship as a representative–she still didn't know why, except that he had been bemoaning earlier about how they didn't see each other often enough (_Gee, how romantic!)_. Their goal had been to persuade the inmates on board to mine an icy, inhospitable planet for desperately-needed water in exchange for their freedom. One would have thought that, after being confined for weeks on end, they would have jumped at any opportunity to leave that tomb. But, lo and behold, it was Tom Zarek–the cocky son-of-a-bitch himself–who refused on behalf of his fellow inmates. It had burned her on a personal level, especially when Billy had started spouting nonsense about how he had fought for "her people". She had been on the verge of biting his head off, when the prisoners rioted and threw her and the other Galactica crewmembers into cells of their own.

She hadn't been too scared at first, though. Her training had prepared for situations like this, so she let her mind go into autopilot, focusing on getting out without getting killed. She'd been more worried that Billy would get killed, or worse. Then a sicko pulled Cally out of her cell at gunpoint and led her away...minutes later, she heard screams, and then a gunshot. That's when she finally felt panic.

The next hour or so was a blur, but what she could remember was the sight of Apollo, racing past their cell, with Zarek huffing and puffing behind him. Another gunshot rang out, shouting, the pounding of footsteps...and then finally the Colonial Marines appeared. She wasn't sure what to expect after she was lead out of her cage, but she saw Tom Zarek–her father's personal god–sitting on the ground, looking pale, defeated. Captain Adama was standing by him, looking every bit his callsign, with a gun still in hand, glaring at the former terrorist. She later found out that he had shot Cally's would-be rapist, and had Zarek at gunpoint, asking him if he was willing to die. _The great Tom Zarek on his knees...that would have been a sight to see._

After a while, she gave up completely on sleep and went to the gym, and did her usual workout routine–pushups, dumbbell rows, situps, and so forth. She didn't push anywhere as hard as, say, the pilots did, but she did just enough to keep herself in shape. On nights like this, she worked out just a little bit harder, just to tire herself out. A group of half a dozen Viper pilots were already there, burning off their own adrenaline rush. They were always loud and obnoxious after a dogfight, which irritated her a more than little, but she knew that it usually took hours for them to wind down. Better to roughhouse in the gym than land in the brig for doing something stupid. Besides, their conversations were often pretty damn entertaining.

"Hey! Kat!" yelled one of the female pilots sliding a plate onto the bench press bar. "I hear that Apollo's setting up a self-defense class for us nuggets. Whadda ya think of that?"

Her workout partner let out a hoot. "Oh boy, rolling around with the C.A.G.! I think there'll be a line out the door just for the chance to pin him down."

"You women!" chimed in a bald guy doing concentration curls on a nearby bench, eyes trained on the dragons tattoos rippling across his arms. "Is that all you think of...putting Apollo into a ...compromising position?"

"Every day, Dragon. Every frakking day I see him in the showers." Kat cupped her hands as if to grab an imaginary pair of toned buns.

A sudden vision of a naked Lee Adama with water slithering over his rear...Dee slammed it out of her mind, concentrating even harder on her crunches.

"Hey, Dee!" called Kat. "You interested?"

"In what?" she puffed out, trying to get in the last painful reps.

"The self-defense class. You're in shape. You're disciplined. You could do it. Besides, it'll be a chance to see the C.A.G. without his shirt."

_Frak! _"Sure, why not?"

"It starts here at around 1700."

"Perfect, just around the time I get off from C.I.C."

_It's been...four years since basic. It wouldn't hurt to brush up on hand-to-hand combat... It's not like I'll be here to drool over him...I am not going to go goo-goo eyes over him just because he looks good in tanks. _She suddenly remembered the sweat gleaming on his bare arms and shoulders, how the muscles looked in the dim light..._Damn! I'm going to do this to kill some time. Right?_


End file.
